A Paramount Predicament
by SpunSilk
Summary: A little story concerning how our three heros would handle the *one* environment they were not prepared for: the Star Trek set in Hollywood.
1. Chapter 1

**_Early in 1976 I read a story "Visit to a Weird Planet Revisited" by Ruth Berman in _Star Trek; The New Voyages_. The story told of three actors, William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy, and DeForest Kelly, and their adventures when exchanged by chance with Kirk, Spock, and McCoy, and landed on board the USS Enterprise._**

**_I enjoyed Ruth's fun and well-written account, but it started me wondering. While all this was happening, what was going on on the set in California with the three unusual guests?_**

**_As it turns out, this story was written before Ruth's story and was called "Visit to a Weird Planet" by Jean Lorrah and William F. Hunt (which Ruth acknowledges in her title). When I found this out, I was very anxious to read the other half of this adventure. But try as I might, I simply could not get my hands on a copy of this original "Visit" story, or even find out where it had been published. Sigh. This was what it was like before the internet made all-things-possible._**

**_Finally, still anxious to read the other half, I sat down to write one myself. What started out as a quick first-attempt-at-fan-fiction short story blossomed into the novelette you see before you. When you start something like this, it's hard to stop. This story was first published in _The Fourth Millennium,_ a Star Trek fanzine from MSU, back in the day. I am finally getting around to converting it to a digital format. Be gentle with me, I wrote this when I was 19._**

**_What follows, then, is my interpretation of what would happen if our three heroes – battlewise and alien environment seasoned - were to enter the one environment they weren't ready for: the Star Trek set._**

* * *

**A Paramount Predicament **

**by SpunSilk**

* * *

Kirk took a deep breath and surveyed the sandy terrain around him. Although he appreciated the cool salty air and the restful atmosphere, he couldn't imagine why the Klingons were interested in the small planet; Klingons were not known for their appreciation of beauty.

Nearby, McCoy and Spock (with his ever-present tricorder squealing) were finishing up their readings and observations. "Bones, Spock, let's get back up to the ship. We'll discuss the possibilities there." As the trio situated themselves into the beaming formation, Kirk snapped up his communicator and gave the appropriate order.

"Energizing," the well-known Scottish voice came back, and the familiar tingle swept their bodies. Vision became blurred, dizziness came over them. Kirk recognized all this, and knew it would soon pass. The buzzing in his ears faded as they rematerialized. Kirk started off the platform, then stopped dead.

The room was not whole. The ceiling and one wall were missing and had been replaced by blinding lights coming from every angle. The intense heat from the blaze beat down on him. The sole occupant of the "room" was the silent form of Kirk's chief engineer standing behind the console and beginning to look a bit anxious at the captain's hesitation. Two more beats passed before Kirk came out with a very unsure and suspicious "Mr. Scott ... report."

"**CUT!**" came an angry voice from nowhere. McCoy jumped at the unexpected sound from someone who must have been behind the dazzling torrent of light. The man in the engineering uniform cursed semi-softly and banged his fist against the console. Assorted groans were heard from an unseen crowd. Another onslaught of words came from behind the brilliant display as Kirk searched the absent wall for its source.

"Shatner! Your line is '_Get me a fix on that power source and meet me in the briefing room_'!" A disgusted pause allowed McCoy and Spock to join Kirk on the floor, as they too strained to see behind the brilliance. The voice returned, "All right, maybe we're all just tired. Take five! we'll pick this shot up later."

As if in response to the booming voice, an immeasurable amount of activity began like the flip of a switch. The lights were dimmed, revealing to the trio a huge building filled with metal equipment Kirk didn't recognize. Scott walked off and was almost immediately lost in the bulky-looking apparatus. Varied chatter began from the large number of people that had just been revealed as everyone began a specific duty. Still rooted to his spot, Kirk hardly acknowledged the "Fascinating" muttered behind him.

As people began to sift into the "transporter" room" with lights, cords, and assorted machines, Kirk hurried his men unnoticed into a somewhat unfilled corner of the room.

"In a word; _Wow_!" said McCoy.

"Mr. Spock," Kirk said, glancing around, still unable to take in his surroundings. "Explanation... uh, speculation? What is this?"

"I am sorry, Captain," he replied, himself almost at a loss for words, "but I can only tell you what it is not. That," pointing to the area they had come from, "is not the _Enterprise_."

"Yes, that's quite obvious," Kirk muttered, not sure whether to be irritated with Spock's inopportune moments to show his unique sense of humor. "Though certain details do bear a striking resemblance... And Mr. Scott-" He scanned the moving crowd for the familiar face.

"Captain, I am inclined to point out that if we are not aboard the Enterprise, the good gentleman we recognized could very well not be Engineer Scott."

Kirk nodded in grim realization. A long pause followed, and then "Well then. The first step is to find out exactly where we are, and then how to get back to where we should be. Spock, as soon as possible, take a tricorder reading. we need data; a point of reference. And until we know exactly what we're up against, I think we should play along with what's going on here." He then added a bit helplessly, "Whatever is going on here."

Spock nodded and walked off through the jungle of black metal, making adjustments on the unit hanging over his shoulder.

McCoy moved closer to Kirk and spoke low. "This is kind of spooky. It's all familiar, yet it's not. You wonder what's coming next."

"You may soon get your answer." Kirk motioned to where a large group looked like they were preparing to start the lights again.

The booming voice reappeared with a loud "Leonard! we need you for a shot."

"For a what?" McCoy gulped.

Kirk gave him a slight smile, a pat on the back and a hearty "Keep your chin up, Doc. Play along and learn all you can."

"Thanks a heap! That's all I need now, to be a phaser target." Leonard McCoy swallowed hard, and with a look of determination and uncertainty, he started off in the direction of the voice, which was now loudly demanding, "Where's Leonard? Anybody seen Leonard?"

* * *

Although he just had to follow the noise, he found it was quite another thing to find a way to get to the source. The huge light stands and other equipment only added to the confusion of corridors, walls, and bulkheads. "Why, it's just bits and pieces," he muttered to himself, surveying the unorganized arrangement of different sections of the great starship.

After five minutes of searching, McCoy found a break in the maze, and found himself about 10 meters from the activity and the man with the powerful vocal chords. Gathering nerve, McCoy strode over and stood patiently beside him. The man glanced up from his huge spring-type clipboard with a quick "Hi De" and went back to his board. McCoy stood by with a definite feeling of what-do-I-do-now? The man glanced up again, surprised to see McCoy still standing expectantly. Pause. . . "Something I can do for you?"

"No, no," McCoy responded, choosing his words carefully, "...unless you... want me for sonething."

He glanced again to the clipboard. "No, you don't have a scene for 35 minutes of more."

"Oh, I see." Actually, he didn't see at all, but there was no point in displaying that fact to the world. As he started away from the busy group of people, he gave a mental shrug to the "Does anybody know where Leonard ran off to?" that followed him through the activity filled building.

Mumbling to himself about his sudden loss of a perfectly good name, he attempted the seemingly hopeless task of finding his way back to where he had left the captain.

"De! Hey De." A hand grabbed his shoulder and he spun around to meet a middle-aged man saying, "What's the matter? Can't you hear today?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm...uh...preoccupied."

"Hmm." He glanced at his spring-type clipboard - everybody seemed to have one of these things!- "Well, I need the usual; phaser, communicator, medikit."

"_My_ phaser, communicator, and medikit?" McCoy didn't like the idea of walking around an alien environment without his equipment, especially his medikit.

The man glanced at him hard, surprised by the resistance. "Yeah, you don't have a scene for over a half an hour, and we can't have the props scattered all over the studio."

The doctor nodded humbly and regretfully turned over the compact devices, remembering Kirk's firm '_Play along, Doc_'. The man received the equipment with a slight double-take at their weight, then dismissed it and walked off through the maze. McCoy, however, was not that easily removed from his instruments and, with great difficulty, followed the man through the labyrinth to see him deposit the equipment on a large table covered in the greatest assortment of interstellar gadgets McCoy had ever seen. He mentally recorded the location of the table and fumbled back into the maze to find the captain.


	2. Chapter 2

**A Paramount Predicament**

**by SpunSilk**

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Kirk had lost his phaser and communicator in a similar manner, but had not had time to worry about his equipment much, as he was concerned instead about the doctor. He had continued to hear calls for Leonard long after McCoy had left. His concentration was broken, however, when Spock returned from between the metal monsters.

"Captain, I believe I have some information that could prove useful."

"That's good, Spock. We need some about now."

He motioned his first officer over behind a half-wall to get as much privacy as this place could offer. "Continue."

Spock complied in his own cool, collected manner. "As I have stated before, this is not the _Enterprise_, nor is it close by. In fact, Captain, my approximations show that we are in a completely different paradigm. Apparently during transportation, planetary positions surrounding the Temir System aligned the paraspatial anomalies in such a way as to form a temporary merging energy magnification, exerting the power to interfere with the transportation beams and send us here."

Kirk said the words slowly, carefully. "And where _are_ we, Mr. Spock?"

Spock frowned slightly before he replied, "I have taken tricorder readings of the natives, enviornment, constellation locations, and all major extra-spatial factors. All my computations show this to be approximately mid-twentieth century. Location: Earth."

"A time warp!" Kirk exclaimed. A passer by in a familiar blue uniform shot a quizzical glance at the pair at Kirk's outburst, and the captain quickly turned his back.

Spock too turned more from the open side of their 'private' conversation, and lowered his voice, realizing the seriousness of the things they were discussing. "I find a time warp unlikely, Captain. The deltoid factor does not have the correct equilibrium. I think, perhaps, a dimensional change."

"Or **ex**change."

"Highly probable."

Kirk nodded, not at all liking the possibilities Spock's explanation was suggesting, but (as always) seeing the logic in the conclusion. "It _has_ happened before."

"Exactly. And if it has happened once more, a number of variables are involved. For instance, we are here unchanged from our world, yet these people accept our appearance without a second thought."

Kirk knew what he was hinting at. "You mean their being unconcerned with the appearance of a Vulcan."

"Exactly, Captain. The human and Vulcan populations did not make contact in our dimension until the end of the twenty-first century, earth measurement. These people in the twentieth century, take it in stride. what they have made here..."

"_Made_ here? Explain yourself."

Spock complied. "Upon my studies, Captain, all this," motioning to the activity around them, "is a false world: made solely for their entertainment."

Kirk viewed his surroundings in a new light. Entertainment? "Spock! You think these people have created an illusion for themselves in their dimension that almost exactly compares to our reality? The chances of one culture's past resembling another's future are so fantastically slim...!"

Spock nodded. "Quantum Theory allows for all possibilities. It would be fascinating to view the influence of this illusion of theirs on the future of this culture."

"True, but we are faced with a problem, if your analysis is correct. We are here, but three others are in our places back on the _Enterprise_."

"Correct."

"I don't relish the thought of some... actors... having control of my ship, Mr. Spock."

"Understandable, Captain."

"We must return. You mentioned the power merger magnification situation as being temporary. Just how temporary?"

"It would take some time to compute." A pause. "Approximately 67.81 minutes, including a safety factor, but I cannot be precise."

"That's close enough, thank you. We have to get in touch with the ship; Scotty will know how to do it. The energy lanes between dimensions will allow for communication, will they not?"

"They will, until the placement of the axis alters. I think we may also assume the _Enterprise_ will be trying to locate us on its own."

"How? If the three that we are assuming took our places did indeed, they may not realize we are missing! These people are actors!"

"Captain, if indeed three of these people now occupy our positions on board the _Enterprise_, I feel that they could surely evaluate the situation, and would then report to Mr. Scott their position. I have taken readings on several of these humans and found a remarkable level of logic (considering), and a high level of ability to understand problems."

Kirk nodded. "What else?"

Spock inhaled with just the slightest hint of annoyance. "At that point, Captain, some good gentleman confiscated my tricorder."

Kirk allowed himself a quick smile.

"The business now would appear to be to regain contact with the ship. If given a communicator, I could make the necessary level changes on its circuits."

"Fine, Spock, but the _first_ business now is to carry on the charade: we must continue here as the three we replaced."

Spock considered. "To what end, Captain?"

"Your one fault, Spock, is a misjudgment of human actions. If we were to simply start altering communicators or talking interdimensional space travel to these people, what do you predict would happen?"

"Predicting human logic has never been my area of expertise, Captain. They are most unpredictable."

"Correction: they _are_ predictable-to another human. When a human observes something strange that he doesn't understand, he fears it. These people in the 20th century would be so affected by our announcement that we are not who they think we are, the end result would be this: we would be detained. Perhaps past our deadline."

"An excellent point to bring up, Captain." said Spock, considering this. "Your handling of human logic is really quite commendable."

"I try, Mr. Spock."

"What is our next action?"

"I propose-" but he cut off as he spotted out of the corner of his eye McCoy returning through the jungle. The doctor stopped a man leaning against a bulkhead and asked him something. A wide grin spread over the man's face and he pointed to Kirk and Spock. McCoy spotted the pair, thanked the man, and followed his point to find the two of them between the metal stands.

He approached them with a grin and stated spontaneously, "I'm not Leonard, I'm _De_."

"You're a what?" Kirk was taken off guard.

"I'm De!" McCoy restated with an I-know-something-you-don't smile. After receiving two puzzled looks, he continued smugly. "I am not the Leonard they are looking for. My name is De."

"Verification, Captain. These people have mistaken the three of us for three others who look similar. Again it has happened; an exchange."

"What's that-?" McCoy started, but was cut off by the ever-present voice returning, and sounding almost violent.

"LAST CALL FOR LEONARD NIMOY! Leonard-get your body onto set eight! Come _on_ man- you're holding up the whole crew!"

"Captain, I fear to point out that since they don't seek the good doctor, and haven't yet found a suitable Leonard for their 'set', it is logical to assume that the person they seek is either you or myself."

Kirk nodded, almost in dread of the next question. "But which?"

"Right _now_, Leonard!" the booming voice returned, then in exasperation, "Where is that blasted Vulcan?"

McCoy used all his strength of will to suppress the laugh that he caught in his throat. Kirk grinned and clapped Spock heartily on the back. "Your new name, Mr. Spock. Wear it in good health. But I strongly suggest you hurry along to set eight. Your absence is causing that poor man a _terrible_ amount of tension."

Spock raised a hesitant eyebrow and started off.

McCoy chuckled and called after him, "Good luck, Leonard, old boy!"

"All right, Doctor, we've got some business," Kirk began. He relayed everything he and Spock had discussed in McCoy's absence. When he finished his narrative, McCoy was dazed, but made no comment.

"We've got to get in touch with Scotty," Kirk explained.

"How?"

"If Spock's computations are correct, and I tend to believe they are, the rotation speed of the involved bodies should give us communications and -I hope-retransmission pathways for a while. We're working on it. But for right now, play along as...well, whoever you said you were."

"De," McCoy repeated. "but how Jim? we don't know the first thing about these people! Their personalities, their friends, their mannerisms -_nothing_! And you have to remember, we are not actors."

"First, my name is probably _not_ Jim, and second, I've never known anything to be impossible to you, if you set your mind to it."

"You and I may not be a problem, but if it's as you figure, this 'Leonard' who is Spock is just a human playing the part of a Vulcan."

"True."

"So...Spock, if he is to play his part, _must act human_."

Kirk realized for the first time the seriousness of that fact. To a Vulcan, such behavior would be demoralizing, if it were possible at all. And it was characteristic of McCoy to be watchful for such potentially harmful situations. "Your concern is appreciated, Bones-uh-De." McCoy scoffed at the word 'concern' but Kirk continued. "Follow him and watch out for suspicions. Warn him about it."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to try to find a communicator without arousing much notice."

McCoy gave him the directions to the equipment table. "Take care, okay?"

"And you. Find out what you can about what each of us is like. I'll depend on you able talents to be sly and subtle."

As Kirk started off, the complaint followed him, "What is this, anyway? I'm a doctor, not a spy!"


	3. Chapter 3

**A Paramount Predicament**

**by SpunSilk**

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Kirk glanced around for the man who seemed to be guarding the table, but upon not seeing him, walked up with a stride of authority, snatched up a communicator from a large selection, and headed back out of the clearing. Too late, he realized the flimsiness and light weight of the black box, and had just time to reason out why fake equipment was being used and mutter, "Well, that's par for the course," before it was violently grabbed from him by the very man he had tried to avoid.

"Just what do you think you're doing?!"

"Well, I thought––"

"You know the problems I have keeping that table _complete_!"

"Of course, but I need-"

"You don't have a call for a good 45 minutes, and you have no business fiddling with my props before then!" The man stalked away without waiting for an answer.

Kirk could feel his face grow red, and not totally from embarrassment. He wasn't used to being bawled out, or being kept from what was his in the first place. He leaned against a replica of a bulkhead and tried to cool off.

The man returned flipping pages on a clip-style board, muttering and studying the pages. As Kirk watched, a young man in a red engineering tunic approached the equipment table, and with no problem at all, signed out a phaser, or what looked like a phaser, and left.

So that's how it's done. He returned to the table and politely asked for a communicator.

The man was still gruff. "No! Now I don't know what you're up to, but you can't have it if you're not using it."

"Damnit! It _will_ be put to use if you'll let me!"

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Wh–" Kirk stopped in complete frustration. Obviously he couldn't answer the question. He spun on his heel and left.

Kirk longed for a guide. How is it done? If someone who spoke the language and knew the workings of this place could just explain it to them. Ahh! Wishful thinking. The importance of their blending in was great, and to have a guide their secret would have to be explained. Blending in... that didn't seem likely as things stood. Wasn't his attempt to get a communicator evidence? Suspicions were dangerous. Got to keep suspicions to a minimum. But the doctor was right; they didn't even know the first thing about their own personalities, or full names. Should they play the part blindly? No. Remain silent? That would work, wouldn't it? Sure. What were the odds of pulling it off, any way?

Hm. Not good.

Time was passing. Kirk needed that communicator, yet the man at the table showed no signs of leaving, and certainly none of letting Kirk have possession of a unit. There was a deadline. And just how long would Spock need for the circuit alterations? Time...

All this activity! Surely any minute would bring on a situation where their stupidity would be revealed. Suspicions... Oh, for a guide! No! That was out of the question. Or was it? Could one of these people be trusted? Spock seemed to think so. The situation could be explained...

But what were the consequences of disclosing their secret?

But what were the consequences of _keeping_ their secret? Stumbling through the masquerade without knowledge could be more dangerous than disclosure to one person. Kirk set his jaw accepting the responsibility of a command decision. He started off after the young actor who had signed out the phaser.

"Excuse me, please." He caught the engineering technician after about 30 meters of winding pursuit. "Could we talk a moment?"

"Sure, Bill. What's on your mind?"

Kirk mentally latched onto the name, but made no outward show of it. "My friends and I are in a tight spot, and we need your co-operation... and _confidence_."

"Well, of course, anytime – you know that! You and what friends?"

"The three of us that just came from the... ah, transporter room."

"How can I help?"

Kirk took a deep breath. Disclosing their secret was a major risk, but the alternative, in his opinion, was a bigger risk. "What I'm about to tell you will probably seem absurd and impossible, but there is a lot at stake and your assistance could prove invaluable. The three of us are _not_ who you think we are."

The boy's brow tightened in concern. Kirk straightened and let the familiar words roll easily off his tongue. "I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship _Enterprise_."

Before he could continue, the young man doubled over in laughter. The Captain stared down at him in momentary shock. This was the least expected response ever received. But quickly he straightened to a rigid salute position, somewhat over-exaggerated, and responded "Lt. Leslie reporting for duty, **sir**!" with only a few giggles.

But Kirk's casual "At ease, Lieutenant" only sent him into more fits of laughter.

Finally he slowed down and wiped his eyes on his sleeves and chuckled, "I'll never stop admiring your ability at a poker-face, Bill. Gotta go – I'm an extra in a corridor shot." He hurried off through the small group of curious people attracted by the laughter. Kirk made an innocent shrug to the audience and left quickly in the opposite direction.


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow! I'm blown away with the response to this story being posted. Up until now, I have only posted Kolchak: The Night Stalker stories, and we are... mmm... a *small* community. This Star Trek story had as many hits –in 7 hours– as I get on all 11 of my K:TNS stories in a month!**

**Thanks to those reviewing and favorite-ing, it really encourages.**

**The story is all written, I just need to get it from my yellowing hard-copy of The Fourth Millennium and onto the computer. So stay tuned :-)**

* * *

**A Paramount Predicament **

**By SpunSilk**

**Chapter 4**

* * *

McCoy had started out following Spock, but had taken a wrong turn at the briefing room and found himself in Engineering. Confound it! Hopelessly lost, he sought out a woman standing near a wall. She seemed to be observing all the activity; maybe she could help him.

"Excuse me, please," McCoy started. "I'm looking for... Leonard."

"Yeah, so is Mr. McEveety form what I've heard," nodding to a loud-speaker hanging form the ceiling. She smiled good-naturedly. "I don't know where he is, sorry."

"Well, thank you anyway." He started down the wall, scanning the crowd for his Vulcan friend.

A man exited from a small room to the side. As he passed McCoy, he nodded and smiled. McCoy did the same, trying to look casual. "De!" McCoy turned, surprised. It seemed he was addressing the doctor. The man was coming back, frowning and studying McCoy carefully.

"Uh, yes?" McCoy asked. The man continued to study his face, frowning.

"What happened to you?" he asked. Uneasy, McCoy shrugged. "You don't have a _grain_ of make-up on your face! Did you come off your last _take_ like that? What happened? Surely Gene didn't let you on film!"

Make-up? "No... of course not," McCoy said. He fished blindly for more, but nothing came.

"You _did_ put it on this morning – I saw you. You scrubbed _up_?"

"I... guess so."

"Are you _crazy_? You're not done today. I'm sure you've got another shot before six, don't you?"

McCoy's mind was blank. He stood stupidly waiting.

"Come on in, I'll powder you quick. _You_ can put it on when there's more time. This time _I'll_ pancake you; you've got to get out there."

* * *

Spock was not much better off, himself. Having finally arrived, he was first roundly scolded, and then told they were about to take a "master shot"; that first they would "pan" an "interior corridor" and end on a "very close angle" of the intercom following to the turbolift, and that they wanted it – please – in no more than three "takes". After this had been explained to Spock, he understood no more (indeed less) than he had before.

Everyone hurried to their places for the rehearsal walkthrough.

Spock stood still.

"Action!" came the call. Instantaneously the corridor was filled with crewmen and women moving purposefully from one end of the part-corridor to the other.

Spock stood still.

"_WALK MAN!_" the voice bellowed.

Spock jerked into motion, watching the activity around him in fascination. A blue-uniformed crew-woman swiftly approached a cabin door. A voice from outside the corridor called "Door!" and almost simultaneously the cabin door opened silently without the familiar swish he was used to. The young woman never fell out of step, but strode through the threshold. Another call of "Door!" again slid the doors shut in silence.

Spock stopped in spite of himself. "Fascinating," he muttered, "but totally logical."

A young engineering lieutenant that had been passing him heard the comment and grinned at him. Spock raised his eyebrow quizzically and quickly continued on his way, leaving the lieutenant to frown in thought.

By now Spock had almost reached the end of the corridor, but as he did one man standing among the lights with a head set and clipboard called out "Intercom bleep. '_Mr. Spock_.'"

Spock frowned slightly then glanced to the bulkhead. He was near an intercom speaker. Of course! He was being hailed. He strode to the unit and with familiar ease punched the intercom switch.

A pause.

The man beneath the lights waited impatiently then began to motion for Spock to speak.

"I beg your pardon?" the Vulcan asked.

"Cut!" Crewmen stopped walking instantly. "For Pete's sake Leonard – _Acknowledge_ yourself!"

"I just did," he answered truthfully, motioning to the intercom switch.

His comment went unnoticed. "Damn – Will someone please show _Mr_. Nimoy this scene? Set it up again."

From somewhere in the moving crowd, a large book was shoved into Spock's hands, open to show its light blue pages covered in lines and cues. Totally absorbed in fascination, Spock walked unseeingly out of the corridor and sat down on a bench nearby, still studying the book intently.

A small group of 'bit' crewmen gathered farther back in the corridor to chuckle and whisper, but one particular young man in a red tunic instead frowned in concern as he studied the Vulcan.

* * *

As the young lieutenant watched, Dr. McCoy appeared from between the bulkheads and scanned the crowd. Spying the Vulcan, still absorbed in the big black book, the doctor called "Spo-_Leonard_!" and joined him on the bench. For a few moments they both whispered together in muffled tones, motioning to the set and other parts of the sound stage. Something was up. He decided to watch.

At one point in their conversation, Spock glanced intently at McCoy's jaw. He reached up and rubbed his fingers over McCoy's cheek, then frowned as he looked at his fingertips and rubbed them together. He said something to the doctor with a raised eyebrow. The latter simply shot back a disgusted look and continued to murmur.

Spock showed McCoy the blue-paged book and the doctor grasped the script excitedly. Both studied it and continued to whisper.

The lights were ready. "Leonard!" came the call. Both heads popped up, McCoy looked down quickly, rather sheepishly. "Are you ready? Shall we try it again?"

"Yes, of course," he responded. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully, tasting their flavor as he spoke them, upon entering the corridor again. "I am...I'm...sorry about the walkthrough. It... won't happen again."

The man softened a bit. "OK, but let's walk it once more before we put it on tape. Set? Action!"

* * *

McCoy was left alone on the bench, still flipping through the script with great interest. The young engineering lieutenant who had been watching joined him.

"Hi, De!"

"Hi,-uh, how are you?"

"Fine, they say laughter is good for the soul. Have you heard Bill's latest?"

"No actually, I haven't." (Or even who he is, McCoy thought.)

"He told me he was 'Capt. James Kirk of the Starship _Enterprise_," striking a high pose. Then chuckled, "He's a natural."

"Yeah, he's that, I'll grant." McCoy's head was spinning. Was this guy on the level? Had he talked to the Captain? And if so, had Kirk really told him the truth? It was obvious the young actor thought nothing of it. This 'Bill' didn't have much credibility here.

The lieutenant was watching the walkthrough. "Leonard is acting strange today. Kind of like he's in a daze or something."

"0h," McCoy dismissed it, "it's just... the change of environment, he'll be all right." He tried to speak casually. "What else did... _Bill_ tell you today?"

The young man leaned back in thought. "Let's see... that you three _weren't_ you three, and that he needed my help, or some such fool thing."

There was no doubt in McCoy's mind now. But why had Kirk told the secret? He considered, and as he watched the confusing activity around him, the reason became clear. Of course; someone who spoke this language... McCoy proceeded cautiously, "What... would you say if I told you that he wasn't joking?"

The lieutenant looked back, surprised. "Huh?"

"That we _aren't_ who you think, that we are..._what we appear to be_." The young man grinned at him, although somewhat uncertain. "Don't smile, son," McCoy continued firmly, "I'm _serious_!'

The young man stopped smiling.

But the loud speaker interrupted them. "Good walkthrough Nimoy– thanks. OK, let's set up for a take." The lieutenant got up in response to this and headed for the corridor, but he never took his eyes off McCoy.

Almost as the lieutenant left, another took the seat: the familiar Russian navigator.

"De," he smiled the greeting.

"Pav-" McCoy started, but turned his head quickly to cough.

_**BLAAAAT.**_ McCoy almost jumped from his seat. "What the–" A horn had been blown – _loud_ one, too.

"Cameras rolling."

The call was clear, and only then did McCoy realize why. There was no noise; no _sound_ coming from any part of the building. All talking had stopped and everyone around him had frozen stiff in various positions, some in mid-stride! Even the navigator at his side sat unmoving, staring into the corridor.

"Hey!" McCoy started, "Are you-"

Chekov flashed him a wide-eyed stare – disapproving; no, almost _fierce_, and put a finger to his lips.

"And – _action_!"

As if a switch had been hit, crew members began moving up and down the corridor. As McCoy assumed the unmoving silence of the rest of the de-personalized statues around him, he watched a bulky metal wagon-like platform moving through the corridor toward him. On the wagon was a bulky, complex lensescope of some kind that intently watched Spock as he strode through the corridor behind it.

In the silence, it was easy to hear a man on the platform say "Intercom bleep" and another say "Mr. Spock."

Spock responded by approaching a wallcom, punching it, and saying clearly, "Spock here."

The man on the platform continued. "Mr. Scott wishes to see you in Engineering, sir."

"Acknowledged" McCoy's body was tense with silence and stiffness. Spock turned to the turbolift door, the lensescope following him closely. The turbolift swallowed him up and, two beats passed.

"CUT! Print!"

A relieved sigh came from all around. People around the lense-scope began to move again. The silence was gone almost immediately, but McCoy heard the man in charge say to Spock, "Nimoy. We'd all appreciate it if you could get _into_ _character_ with a little less prodding."


	5. Chapter 5

**A Paramount Predicament**

**by SpunSilk**

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Kirk was leaning on a lampstand absorbing, planning, reasoning. Quietly steaming as well. He had been trying to get their equipment from other people who seemed to be in authority, but was only told that he did not have a "take" or "shot" or "scene" and therefore could not have the instruments, and that "he knew that". He was left with nothing to do but watch at the point where he told McCoy to rendezvous when he found Spock.

In the distance, near a group of people, a small boy –Kirk guessed about six– saw the captain and a grin appeared. The captain smiled back and the boy, encouraged, broke away form the group and started over to him.

The captain mused how he resembled his nephew at that age. His mind reeled back to the times spent in the Ammer colonies with his brother and family. Happy memories flooded over him, hiking, the aquascooter, and Peter at six... watching him grow and learn about the fantastic new universe around him. And now that same sandy, tousled hair and the energetic sparkle in the eyes that was common to all Terran boys, no matter what planet they grew up on...

The young boy approached Kirk cautiously. His eyes were wide as he came up to the Captain.

"Hello" the boy said nervously, but held his ground.

"Hello, young man. How are you?"

"Fine. Um." He held up a tattered pocket notebook. "May I please have yer autograph?"

"Sure." The boy had stolen his heart, but even as he took the ball-type pen, he hesitated. 'Bill' was all he knew – he didn't even know his own surname.

With a glance at the boy's face the Captain allowed himself a quick smile and then signed. '_Captain James Tiberius Kirk'_ with a flourish.

When he handed the book back, the boy instantly recognized the name and a grin lit his face and as he stared up at Kirk for a moment in wonder, that bordered on hero-worship.

"Thanks!" He turned and took off running.

Kirk's quick smile had broadened and a warm glow filled him as he watched the boy scamper off. Hadn't he, Kirk, had heroes as a boy? And hadn't he wanted more than anything else at that time to be like those great men that could cause such a reaction in young boys?

Kirk mused again. This place, in spite of itself, had its points.

* * *

Lost in thought, Kirk didn't hear McCoy call "Bill" and only when McCoy said "Jim!" from a closer distance did he snap his head up and see both of his officers returning.

"Report."

McCoy gleefully complied. "Mr. Spock's ample talents have been immortalized on tape, Captain. It'll be our loss when civilization discovers him and he abandons our starship to join an acting company–"

"No progress in getting a communicator, Sir." Spock interrupted the doctor. Kirk smiled. "However we have learned a bit about our places here, and a little of what is expected of us."

"But not enough, Spock."

"Unfortunately, I must agree."

"I tried to talk to a young man, to get us a translator and guide, but when I started to explain, he laughed in my face."

"Jim! I must have talked to the same one! He said you had told him who we were."

Spock asked, "What was his reaction?"

"He thought nothing of it; said it was your latest joke!"

"An excellent attempt, Captain, but unfruitful."

Kirk nodded. "Unless the situation changes, we'll have to try this thing alone. I don't want to risk another contact."

Sensing a lull in the conversation, the doctor started up again. "But it's true about Spock, Jim! He's destined to perform the classics: Shakespeare! Mas Voden! What would you say to d'mor's Soliloquy of Antares done in true Vulcan style? Or a _green_ Hamlet?"

"McCoy," Kirk asked in disbelief, staring at McCoy's cheek, "what the devil have you got all over your _face_?"

"_Nothing_," he grumbled, his light mood changing on a dime.

Spock answered for him. "The good Doctor has suddenly taken to an empathy for the male culture on the plains of Pirus II, Captain. He has adopted the custom–" Spock suddenly fell silent in midsentence and frowned slightly. "Sir, we are being watched."

Kirk glanced around and caught the eyes of an actor in the distance.

"Jim, that's the one." McCoy said.

The Captain nodded. The lieutenant, conscious that all three were glancing at him, seemed uncertain at first but then started over to them. The young man in the red tunic approached them slowly, frowning. An uneasy silence followed. "Uh..." More silence. "You guys seem out of sorts today."

"Out of _place_ is the word," Kirk responded. "Please, what I told you before is true. Will you help us?"

He shifted his weight uneasily and forced a grin. "Of course, I don't believe a _word_ of your gag. It's cute, but..." He frowned. "Level, huh Bill? Please? The story's clever but somehow the three of you are _too_ into it. It gives me the chills."

"What do you think it's doing to us?" McCoy asked. "This place will be the death of me."

"A logical step, Captain, would be to prove to the young man that our stated identities can in fact be substantiated."

"How?" McCoy asked.

"Yeah, how? No! This is silly! Impossible..." He started to turn from them.

"Please don't leave-we'd never find each other again." Kirk said. "What would be proof for you?"

A pause.

"Wait! I know!"

The lieutenant ran out and caught up with someone in a yellow tunic and motioned him over to their group. As they approached, Kirk almost shuddered to see how much the young actor resembled his helmsman, Mr. Sulu. Anew he was struck with the strangeness and familiarity of the place that spun together and was beginning to unnerve him. Kirk caught McCoy's glance and it was obvious the doctor was having similar shudders.

The young man led Sulu into the group and carefully steered him so that his back was to Spock.

"So what did you want to say, Eddie?" Sulu asked.

"Uh..." The lieutenant stopped cold. He had nothing to say.

Spock understood, and smoothly reached for the helmsman's neck. His fingers skillfully found their mark. Sulu's body did a violent twitch and amazement flickered through his eyes as he melted into unconsciousness. McCoy had been standing ready and caught the limp body to guide it easily to the ground.

The lieutenant's eyes had gone wide and he was staring down with his mouth open. His head jerked up to Spock, then McCoy, then Kirk, wide with fear. For a split second McCoy got the impression he would run away, but Kirk started to talk fast.

"Don't be afraid, what we've told you is true! We are what we say we are. Don't you understand? We need you help. We have been exchanged with the three you know, and _must_ get back. Will you help us?"

McCoy nodded in agreement with Kirk's tactics. The Captain's grasp of psychology was excellent.

The lieutenant was still groping for his voice. "I...never thought...I never once...believed.." came out weakly.

Sensing a little bit of calm, Kirk explained rapidly. "Through a lot of physics you wouldn't understand, an energy pathway was formed between our dimension and yours, and we three in the process of beaming up to the ship were caught up in it. The pathway still exists, but soon will break apart. Before it does, we have to return. We must return with little or no disclosure of our identities on this end. To do that, we ask your help. _Please!_"

The lieutenant swallowed hard. "Where...are Bill and Len and De?"

McCoy was touched by his concern for his fellow actors. He stood up slowly from where he had been tending Sulu. "They're fine. The passage has not affected us adversely, so it's safe to assume that they arrived unhurt."

"Arrived? Where?"

Spock answered. "The _Enterprise_."

The young man's face went paler still, but he held his ground. "The starship _Enterprise_?" he managed weakly.

Kirk knew that he couldn't allow him any more time to think. "Time is a factor. We have to understand this place and fit in here. Will you help us?"

"Sure," the lieutenant struggled to gather his wits about himself. "Sure." He looked around vaguely for a place to begin. He thrust out his hand. "Hi, my name is Eddie Paskey."


	6. Chapter 6

**A Paramount Predicament**

**by SpunSilk**

**Chapter 6**

* * *

Four figures slipped unnoticed onto the deserted bridge. The panels were dark since it wasn't in use, but in spite of this, Kirk's mind reeled with familiarity.

"You three wait here." the lieutenant whispered. "I'll try to get a communicator for you."

"We need a specific communicator, Eddie – one of _ours_. More than that, we need _all_ of our equipment," Kirk said urgently. "Your people here might get ahold of a piece of our equipment and not realize what it's capable of."

Eddie went white (not for the first time) as what Kirk was saying sunk in. "A... phaser?" He gulped. "OK, I'll get it all, but it may take a while." He slipped out quickly, muttering something about "Feinburg is going to want my _head_."

Kirk was staring around at the silent stations. McCoy joined him. "Well," the doctor started, "You wanted to see it. What do you think?"

Spock took his familiar seat and tried various switches and buttons. Everything was shut off; there was no power. He turned back to the captain.

Kirk was walking slowly to the center seat. He sat down, still staring around him. Size-wise, it was smaller than his bridge, devoid of the familiar hums and buzzings, dark. It was dead, and yet... it wasn't. It was _different_, but the _same_.

In all the confusion of this world, it was still his bridge; it was _his_ bridge.

The doctor's eyes fairly danced. "I can hardly wait to see Sickbay."

Kirk smiled. He felt a sudden impulse to run to the turbolift, fully expecting it to take them down a few levels to Sickbay. Wouldn't it? "Spock, how long will it take you to make the level changes on the translator?"

"Unknown, sir, without the necessary tools and data, it may be close."

Kirk set his jaw. "But we have no other choice."

Eddie returned after a while with a canvas bag nonchalantly at his side. Once inside the bridge, he went quickly to Kirk and gladly handed it over. Kirk opened it and handed a communicator to Spock who began his work immediately.

"I brought these, too. I hoped they might help." Eddie pulled out a small kit of delicate electrical repair tools, and offered them to the Vulcan.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "They may indeed, Mr. Paskey." He was obviously impressed. "Thank you."

Kirk was distributing the equipment. "Keep these out of sight." He instructed as he attached the devices to his equipment belt. "Eddie, won't they be asking for them again?"

"No. Since you're not supposed to have them, they'll assume you don't. But... don't let them be seen."

"Fair enough." he smiled at the young actor. "How do you feel?"

"A little shaky still," he grinned. "How about you?"

"Well, at least we should feel at home," the doctor interjected. "But still..."

"Listen. I hate to bring this up while you've got so many other things to worry about," Eddie started, "but I was thinking, it's almost the end of the day – well, I mean, we'll soon stop filming – and if you guys don't want to create a scene, you'll have to get Bill and Len and De back before then, because..." he swallowed uncomfortably. "... 'cause in about half an hour, they'll be wanting to..um.. take Spock's ear pieces off..." His voice trailed away.

McCoy howled. "Spock!" he choked, "This is your big chance!"

Spock raised his right eyebrow, but continued working in silence.

"I'm afraid we have a tighter schedule than that, Eddie." Kirk explained. "To use the same path we came through, we have to return before the energy lanes shift, and that's–" he motioned to Spock.

"21.57 minutes."

"–from now." Kirk concluded.

"I see. Well, when you do transport out, won't it _show_? I mean, aren't you supposed to sparkle or something?"

Kirk and McCoy glanced at each other. "Well." McCoy explained. "Our transporter chamber is usually dimly lit, and so sometimes the images appear to shimmer, but if you've got all those lights in yours, it probably won't show as well."

"Plus the fact that as we beam out, the three that are returning will hopefully be beaming into our exact places and volumes of space. That will muffle the distortion even more." Kirk added. "Which is probably why none of your people here perceived anything unusual when we arrived."

"Hmm" Eddie responded, intrigued and excited by it all. "I've got just a _million_ questions. I don't even know where to begin."

"Nor do I," Kirk answered, smiling.

McCoy was wandering over to the Communications console. He opened a line to Sickbay, but nothing happened. "Dead." he muttered.

"Hey, wait! Give me a minute, let me see if I can do something." Eddie bounded out of the bridge. Within a few minutes, panels began to blink on: sensor lights, computer consoles. As Kirk and McCoy watched, entranced, the bridge surged into life, pulsating with light.

Eddie reappeared. "Sorry I can't add sound effects - the voices and buzzing are added by the sound mixer after the dailies."

"Quite all right." Kirk whispered.

"Listen, Eddie," McCoy said excitedly. "While Spock is still working, is there any way for me to see Sickbay?"

"Oh, shi–!" Eddie grabbed at his wrist watch. "I forgot! De's got - you've got a scene coming up! I checked when I was out gathering phasers."

"I've got a what?" McCoy asked, startled. "A scene? I can't act!"

"What happens if he doesn't show up?" Kirk asked, concerned.

"Bad news! Then people would get suspicious of what's going on. It won't take long. Come on, Doctor. I'll go with you and explain things on the way."

Kirk nodded, "All right. Go ahead, Bones."

"But–" McCoy was wide eyed. "What'll I do when I _get_ there?"

Eddie paused. "Be yourself?" he suggested.

McCoy considered the thought. "All right." he said more confidently, "Let's go."

* * *

They arrived with just time enough to walk quickly through the adjoining rooms that made up the Sickbay set. McCoy oriented himself and mentioned to Eddie that the nicest walls in the room were the ones that had been left out. "It's mind-boggling!" He said, examining one piece of lab equipment. "Almost exact reproduction. Yet none of this is useful to you medically?"

Eddie shook his head. "They're called props. I guess you'd call them non-working models." He motioned the doctor into the examination room. "This is where they'll be filming. That's Mr. McEveety, the director. He'll be the one that tells you where to walk and how to interpret the lines. Be careful though, he's not in a great mood since, well, since you three slowed up the schedule."

"There you are, De." said another man in a bulky headset. "Come on, let's get to it." He motioned him over to a diagnostic bed where another actor was lying down. Eddie walked over to a bulkhead off-camera. McCoy went over and started examining every detail of the bed and had just discovered a table of medical instruments to explore when the director called for order.

"All right, now, this is going to go smooth as silk," he stated more than requested. "I don't want to hear of any problems from lighting, from sound, from anyone." He sat down in a chair nearby the camera. "Easy take. Everyone set for the walkthrough?" Various nods answered him and he turned to McCoy. He sighed.

"Other side of the bed, Doctor."

McCoy obeyed, but McEveety still waited impatiently.

"Do you want to find your key light?" he asked coolly.

The doctor glanced at Eddie.

"Move back," the lieutenant mouthed.

McCoy backed up about a meter, until the bright lights found him.

"OK, De," the director started, checking a script in front of him, "Easy take. Let's start off with you grabbing your Feinberger and wave it over Tim there."

"My what?" McCoy asked, searching the instrument platter that the director had indicated.

"Your gizmo there! Come on, Kelly. Now I don't know what's going on today, but I don't _need_ it. Now pick up your Feinberger and wave it around!"

McCoy's temper was tipped off as well. "Now wait a minute, if we're going to be accurate with this thing, let's be accurate!" He picked up the pseudo-instrument. "This is not a Feinberger, it's a neural skingraph. And you don't wave it around. It's a delicate instrument and has a specific purpose." He continued in a brief, concise description of the instrument, its function, and its use. The crew stood around in silence watching him.

"All right, then," he said when he had finished. "Let's get on with it."

The wide-eyed crew responded slowly.


	7. Chapter 7

**A Paramount Predicament**

**by SpunSilk**

**Chapter 7**

* * *

"Finished, Captain," Spock replaced the covering on the communicator and handed it to Kirk.

Kirk looked up from the script he had found and been reading. "Good, Spock." He took the unit from his First Officer.

"By its own power, the unit will barely transmit through the energy lanes."

"True, Spock. I'm counting on a booster from the receiving end. If they're looking for us, it will be there." He opened the flip lid. "Kirk to _Enterprise_." The communicator squealed faintly under the unusual strain of the altered level. "Kirk to _Enterprise_."

A tense silence.

"Captain?" came Scotty's filtered voice. "It's a relief t' hear your voice, sir!"

"Mutual, Mr. Scott." Kirk smiled at Spock who accepted the congratulations without response. "You understand the situation, then?"

"Aye, sir. Our visitors told me what had happened to 'em, and right off I began preparing for transportation. I've had the computer scanning for your signal so'as it wouldn't come through Uhura's board. The crew... doesn't know, Captain."

"That's best, Scott" Kirk said. These actors were good, then. "Ship's operation normal?"

"Not totally. we have Klingon company on this end–"

Kirk's jaw set.

"–but the... 'Captain' ...has kept it stalemate. It'll be good t' have you back though, sir."

"Is the transporter prepared for activation now?"

"No, Sir. I got a wee bit more work on it yet, but it'll be finished before the energy lanes break down if all goes as planned."

"Proceed as fast as you can, Scotty. Call me as soon as it's ready. Keep me posted on all new developments with the Klignons. Kirk out." He closed the unit.

"We will of course have to return from the 'transporter room' in this dimension." Spock pointed out.

Kirk glanced up from other worries, then nodded. "Returning _is_ the most pressing crisis. we'll deal with the others as they come."

He paced a familiar section of the bridge. Time limit... "Spock could you find the Sickbay set from here?"

"I shall attempt if you wish."

Without another word the two started off the bridge. The captain glanced back for only a moment before exiting.

Just outside, Spock paused silently straining his Vulcan ears for a certain sound. Kirk waited at his side. After a moment, a simple "This direction" and they started off.

The Vulcan continued to listen and lead, but also spent time watching the sets go by and taking in everything he could. This place was not above fascinating him and he would have enjoyed five or six hours just watching it happen.

After many turns and twists they emerged a safe distance behind the filming. McCoy was examining a crewman in front of the huge lensescope Eddie had called the camera. The pair approached slowly and silently. How strange, Kirk mused, to see something so natural and familiar be performed as if in a play.

Eddie was seated nearby the activity, watching the doctor and ready to offer aid at any moment. As Kirk and Spock came closer, he glanced up and did a double-take at the pair. Then with a quick glance back to see that the doctor was doing fine, he slipped back to meet them. He and Kirk exchanged silent smiles and the three watched McCoy finish up the scene. "He's good at what he does," Eddie whispered almost inaudibly.

When the scene was successfully completed and McCoy was dismissed, he joined the group.

"Doctor, you are in your _element_," Kirk declared as he approached.

McCoy flushed, obviously pleased.

"Indeed," Spock said, not wanting to miss his chance, "I recall your mention of d'mor's soliloquy earlier..."

McCoy sent him an icy glance. "Have you been able to talk with Scotty?" he asked the captain, to change the subject.

Kirk nodded. "He's working on it from that end, and we've got to work on it from _this_ end. Eddie, who is in charge here at the studio?"

"That would be the director, Mr. McEveety over there."

Kirk started in that direction.

"Jim, where are you going?"

"To work on this from this end." Kirk answered the doctor.

* * *

Kirk waited nearby while the director talked in low tones with one of the clipboard men. As the other left, Kirk quickly took his place.

"Excuse me, Mr. McEveety. I wondered if I could ask a favor."

"What can I do for you, Bill?"

"I'd like to try the transporter scene again. I know I can give you a good take now." Kirk smiled to himself. He was finally catching on to the native language.

"Can't do it." He shook his head. "Got a schedule to follow. Don't worry, we've got it set for late tomorrow morning."

"No!" Kirk caught the director's arm. Something in his voice made McEveety stop and watch the captain, frowning. Kirk eased the grip and smiled, but his eyes fixed tightly on McEveety.

"I'd like to do it now."

The director said nothing, but he studied the captain's face. "As a special favor to me." Urgency edged into his voice.

A long pause. "There's hardly time before the end of the day." The director said.

"It's very important."

There was something unusual about Bill Shatner that day, and it made McEveety uneasy. A confidence, or the way he carried himself; a commanding air, and now this unrelenting stare that seemed to bore him through. McEveety knew the line of command at the studio very well, but at this moment the _captain_ was in charge, and they both could feel it.

McEveety shuddered slightly and looked at him squarely. "All right, I'll have it set up."

* * *

The trio and one other stood just outside the transporter set, lights and cords were moved into position amid ordered confusion.

"You've only been here a short time, yet I feel like I know you well." Eddie commented.

"Perhaps in one way you do," Spock said, "in one way you work with us every day."

"That's true. I sure wish that_–_"

Kirk's communicator chirped and Eddie fairly jumped. The captain gave him an understanding smile and the group slipped silently behind a bulkhead. "Kirk here."

"Sir, we're ready for transportation. I canna' guarantee that my fancy handiwork will hold the strain, being untested, but I'll have to take the risk, Captain. We've got to pull you back in the next five minutes, before the anomaly shifts." Eddie was staring in amazement at the black box that actually spoke. The Scottsman's voice returned. "An' I've got three gentlemen here very anxious to go home."

Kirk's glance to his own men confirmed that those three were not alone. 'Right, Scotty. Set it up and we'll get onto the platform. Kirk out."

They entered the mainstream again.

"All right people, let's go." It came from McEveety. "We all know the blocking, let's go for a take." The confusion started to clear slowly.

The trio turned to Eddie who, suddenly faced with the farewell, seemed to be without words.

"Live long and prosper, Mr. Paskey." Spock spoke for them all.

He understood and nodded, smiling. "The same to you." He watched them turn and walk into the chamber.

Lights blazed, the horn sounded. Unnoticed, Kirk opened a channel on the communicator on his belt.

"Cameras rolling!"

"Energize." Came the order under his breath.

"_Action_!"

The welcome haze took them.

In the fog of the transportation it's difficult to think, but Kirk got the impression that it was taking longer than normal. Too long. Before he could piece it together and become anxious, though, he room reappeared, but this time whole. An audible sigh of relief came from McCoy.

Kirk greeted his Engineer with "Report on the Klingons." At the captain's first words, Scott looked a little relieved himself.

"All quiet, Sir."

The trio stepped out of the chamber, noticing for perhaps the first time the security of four walls.

"You're all right then, Captain?"

"After quite a day, Scotty."

"An experience matched by none, Scotty," the doctor chimed in. "But I really feel we missed our calling, gentlemen. It's always good, though, to have another profession to fall back on, should the need arise..."

"Doctor," Scott asked, examining him closely, "what's that ya got all over your _face_?"

"_Never mind_." McCoy answered gruffly.

Kirk chuckled. "Enough for one day, Bones. Go scrub up and let's come back to reality. We've got a ship to run."

He and Spock started for the bridge.

FIN

**So that's it. Over 30 years ago that's how I sounded. A lot of water has passed under the bridge since then, and a whole lot (!) of life experience as well. Nowadays I write differently. Maybe someday I'll revisit this story and make it _sound_ good, not just tell the story. Until then, may I invite you over to read some fic under Kolchak: The Night Stalker. We are having a lot of fun over there :-)**


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